


Playing the Odds

by Tishina



Series: Dangerous Kisses [3]
Category: Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 09:13:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13096974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tishina/pseuds/Tishina
Summary: A Sith Inquisitor crashes a high-stakes game of sabacc when he hears that a particularly notorious privateer is playing, and a pair of wild cards turn into a winning hand.This takes place on Nar Shaddaa in a universe where the Outlander is someone other than Selirah, ‘Noka, or Nox, a year or so after Corellia. ‘Noka never meets Lana in this universe, or at least not until much later when Lana is firmly committed to the Alliance anyway, and ‘Noka becomes one of Hylo’s major underworld contacts.‘Noka/Lyorek. Very suggestive but not really NSFW.This was written for a prompt from Tashlen who wanted the two of them together. Lyorek is Tashlen’s Assassin, apprenticed to Darth Nox… Thank you so much for letting me play with him! Dunno if I've ever known two characters who were such perfect mirror images of each other and hopelessly outrageous flirts.





	Playing the Odds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tashlen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tashlen/gifts).



> This story is part of [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), whose goal is to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites:  
> Feedback
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * Constructive criticism
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> [LLF Comment Builder](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/post/170952243543/now-presenting-the-llf-comment-builder-beta) 


‘Noka reclined in her chair, elbows resting comfortably on the armrests, thigh-high bantha-leather boots crossed as she studied the sabacc cards in her hand with the same cheerful grin she’d worn for the past two hours. The Mirialan was completely at ease and seemed oblivious to the glares from her last two remaining opponents, the spoils from failed players now stacked in front of her. In fact, several of those retired players had lingered in this back room of the cantina to drink and watch, along with a few other spectators who had wanted a glimpse of the notorious smuggler as much as the high stakes game.

One of her remaining opponents was a Rodian who’d loudly declared he was a transportation planner for the Hutt Cartel. _For someone who’s supposed to understand networks, flows, and probabilities, he’s_ way _too optimistic._ The other, a tall, muscular Nikto, claimed to be a guard. _More likely a strongman or lieutenant for one of the gangs on the lower levels._ _But this cantina isn’t gang territory, and I’m not desperate enough to get into a serious game without backup anymore._ In fact, she’d paid a steep fee for this private sabacc booth for the entire night, an investment she’d already recouped in a game early in the evening. Everything she’d made since was pure profit…a repeat of what she'd done in two other cantinas over the past few days, though tonight had been the most profitable.

_And that’s the mistake both of these chumps have made. The only ones who prosper at the sabacc table are people who treat it like a business and don’t get carried away with the thrill of the thing. Save the rush for other things, know when to stand and fold._

At about that moment, a figure to her right, leaning against the wall, caught her eye. And that tall figure demanded a second glance. Swathed in heavy black robes—killik silk, if she was any judge, and she was definitely a judge of expensive fabrics—face shadowed by a deep hood, a sash supporting a lightsaber… _Someone likes drama, and from the black robes_ and _lightsaber, a Sith. Wonder why he or she wandered in here to watch gambling, though? Not the kind of thing to attract one of_ them _looking for trouble, so…maybe just out on a lark? Are Sith allowed to 'lark'?_ She chuckled at the random thought.

The Nikto discarded, his scowl deepening as the turn passed to the smuggler, and impulsively, ‘Noka raised one eyebrow at the robed figure. “Hey, tall, dark, and Sithy! Why don’t you come draw my next card for me? I mean, I assume it’s not breaking any rules for you to have a little fun, or will that get you drummed out of the Sith brooding squad?”

Several people drew away from the table in alarm and quietly streamed out through the door as they abruptly realized that there was not only a Sith in the room now, but the smuggler had potentially insulted him or her. However a few of those who’d lost to the Mirialan earlier, as well as the Nikto, looked on gleefully, certain she was about to get brought down a notch…and probably much worse. _I never could resist poking at people to see how they react and he crashed my game, after all._

But instead of erupting in offended pride, the figure straightened, walked to the table, and pushed back the hood, to reveal a very handsome Zabrak man, red complexion with black tattoos, lips curved in a sensuous smile, and red-gold eyes sparkling with humor. With a silent flourish, he drew the top card and presented it face down to the Mirialan. She raised her eyebrow again when his fingers caressed hers delicately as she took the card. Then her grin quickly morphed into a matching sensuousness as they locked eyes measuringly.

She broke that appraisal to briefly study the new card and dropped her hand casually on the table. “Read ‘em and weep, gentlemen.”

The Nikto looked ready to try to flip the heavy sabacc table, but the looming appearance at his elbows of a very tall Wookie and a grim Zabrak in Mandalorian armor visibly caused him to pause. When the Sith also glanced his direction with a smile that was less-than-friendly, he dropped his own cards on the table with a grumble. And clearly the game was over for the time being. The disappointed gamblers and most of the spectators were quietly encouraged to return to the main room of the cantina by the Wookie, the Mandalorian, a Mon Calamari, and a human man. Ignoring them, the smuggler and Sith resumed measuring each other appreciatively, oblivious to anyone else.

“You’re good luck, handsome.” The smuggler’s voice drawled appreciatively as she stretched her crossed boots out in front of her. “How ‘bout you help me drink this fine Corellian whiskey as a thank you? Got a name, or should I keep calling you ‘Dark-and-Broody’?”

A human woman was collecting ‘Noka’s winnings into a case to stow in the small safe in the private booth, but paused to roll her eyes. “Are you nuts, Captain?”

The Mirialan ignored the hissed whisper, amber eyes locked with red-gold. _Shh, Risha, Sith or not, he knew exactly what he was saying with his fingers_. _And you know I could never pass up a dangerous challenge._

“I’d love to.” He accepted the shot glass she held out to him, this time her fingers lingering briefly on his. The Zabrak’s eyes glinted in return. “Lyo. And yours?”

“‘Noka.”

“Just ‘Noka?”

“I'd guess I'm as much ‘just ‘Noka’ as you are ‘just Lyo’.”

He toasted her, then tossed back the shot before smirking at her. “‘Noka it is, then.”

She held up the bottle questioningly. “Another shot? Then tell me what brings a high and mighty Sith to this neck of the underworld.” ‘Noka winked. “Though we’d both be more comfortable if you sat in my lap. I’m getting a crick in my neck.”

“Can’t have that, can we?” And just like that, he was reclining in the Mirialan’s lap, one arm elegantly draped around her neck, black robes against her trademark pale gray and silver form-fitting bodysuit. “And I was simply looking for a…pleasant diversion.”

 _Well! He’s got even more potential than I thought! Haven’t met someone so ready to roll with things since Dar… Shit. Just have some fun and don’t think about_ him. “Were you? And have you found one?” She refilled both shot glasses and set the bottle on the table, one hand lightly stroking his back.

By now, her winnings had been safely locked away, and the others had trickled out of the small room. The Wookie was last, pausing in the doorway to growl something at her. But before the woman could respond, the Zabrak waved a lazy hand at the Wookie. “Go on, she’ll be fine with me.”

The woman laughed at his audacity. “It’s OK, Bowie. And thanks.” _So, he understands Shyriiwook, fascinating._ She touched the control under the edge of the table as the door slid shut behind him, watching to make certain the door signal flashed red to indicate it was locked.

“A Wookie bodyguard, I’m impressed.” The Zabrak tossed back the second shot as the door slid closed behind Bowdaar, then arched invitingly into the hand on his back. _Mmm, it’s like having a cat…a very large and sensual cat with deadly claws…purring under my hand!_ Then he shifted his own arm around her neck to allow him to lightly massage her opposite shoulder, smirking. “You’re Republic. Not worried about the ‘Scary Sith’ doing horrible things to you?”

“You’re the best thing I’ve seen all day, Lyo, with just a little danger to spice things up. Besides, we both know you aren’t looking for _that_ kind of trouble at the moment. Not that you don’t look like you could be more trouble than a fleet of star destroyers if you wanted to be, but then…” she ran her tongue lightly along her upper lip, invitingly, “so can I.”

“Mmm, is that so?” Lyo set his empty shot glass on the table next to her untouched one, then leaned down closer to her mouth, his breath teasingly warm on her lips, eyes half-lidded. _This just gets better and better! I think he reads body language better than I do…or maybe he’s using the Force too?_

“Sure this won’t get _you_ in trouble?” Her amber eyes dropped to his lips, then back to his eyes in a clear invitation. “I should probably warn you I’m not too popular with the Empire.”

“Or the Republic sometimes?” Lyo grinned, his hand cupping her cheek in a delicate caress. “I overheard someone in the main room laughing about a notorious privateer who was fleecing some idiots with more optimism than common sense, which caught my interest. Then I heard some bruiser who looks like he lifts small shuttles for a morning warm-up taking bets that he could get her to spend the night with him.”

‘Noka instantly put the pieces together and burst out laughing. “And you jumped in and made a bet that _you_ could, is that it?” _Ha! He_ was _posing dramatically to get my attention. Now this is my kind of Force user!_

Lyo simply grinned and kissed the tip of her nose. “Of course. I admit, I did slip in to gauge my chances and see if I would _enjoy_ winning before placing that bet. But it took me about two minutes to recognize…”

“We’re two of a kind?” She finished his sentence, then used her free hand to pull his head closer, brushing his lips very lightly before tapping his nose. “I can deal with someone who knows when to lay his cards on the table.”

“And I like someone who isn’t afraid to toss a challenge at an unknown Force user. A _Sith_.” Lyo caught her lower lip between his teeth, biting down gently before moving to ‘Noka’s ear.

“So, if you win your bet, what do _I_ get out of it?” She chuckled as her hand caressed its way down his back to his waist and toward his hips. _Definitely some muscle under those robes, and as flexible as a cat from the way he moves. Mmm, very promising._   _Bet he knows a few enjoyable ways to use the Force that would horrify the Jedi too._

“A night of... _dancing_ with someone who enjoys it as much as you do.”  He shifted abruptly, straddling her lap and bending down to kiss each eyelid while his hands slid down her arms, then claimed a kiss that deepened quickly, and ended with both a little out of breath. “And breakfast is on me.”

“Hmm, didn’t bet that much? That suggests a lack of faith in your, um, _persuasiveness_ that ought to worry me, doesn’t it?” She wrapped one arm around his waist, and used the other to pull his head back to hers, their lips barely a centimeter apart as she smirked.

“I tell you what, if I disappoint, you can have half my winnings.” ‘Noka’s grin turned mischievous and he waggled a finger at her. “Just don’t think you can lie to a Force user.”

“I ought to take that as a challenge.” ‘Noka snagged the finger he’d waved at her to lick it suggestively, then feathered kisses on his palm and his wrist, one eyebrow raised inquiringly. “But that’s no fun, not my kind of game.”

“And what _is_ your kind of game?” He bit down abruptly on her earlobe, feeling her shiver.

“Why don’t you show me how those robes work and let’s find out?”


End file.
